This is Where We Are
by L122yTorch
Summary: *Spoilers* Two days after watching Louis blow his brains out, Olivia Benson sat in her apartment, wondering how she'd ever pick up the pieces. She especially wasn't prepared for who showed up to help. (T for now, M for later?)


*Spoiler Alert*

—-

Two days.

Two days had gone by, that's it.

But it felt like two years. And that realization made it hard to breathe because Liv thought…what if it's like this forever? What if each day feels like a week, each week a month, each month a year?

She wanted space, she needed space.

The precinct left her alone per her request, but Barba kept calling, so she shut her phone off and threw it on the coffee table so hard that it could've cracked.

Brian was gone on special assignment, he was gone before all of this shit went down, and she stayed on the phone with him for two hours, begging him, convincing him not to come home.

She needed space, she needed time to process. She had been alone her whole life - it was the only way she knew how to heal.

The apartment was fully lit, she must've had every light turned on. Even the TV was on, but it was muted. Two empty wine bottles sat on the cocktail table, the place was a mess.

She felt trapped in her own head. Like her world had deflated and no matter where she was, she wanted to be somewhere else. No matter what she was thinking, she wanted to think something else.

Suddenly Benson was too aware of her own humanity. She noticed every heartbeat in her chest, every sound from the street, every breath that she took, every detail in every object that her eyes fell upon. It was too much…

Re-victimized.

Olivia Benson: re-victimized.

The thought made her stomach curl.

She wanted to curl up in a ball on her bed, fall asleep, and wake up next year.

A knock on the door violently jolted her out of her circular thoughts. With shaking hands she got her gun.

"Olivia, it's me," a familiar voice said from the other side of the door.

Fuck. How much had she drunk? Was she hallucinating? There's no way…

Still she held the crisp black gun in her wavering grasp, slowly approaching the door.

Through the tiny peephole, her brown eye saw a familiar face.

Again, she couldn't breathe. She couldn't open the door fast enough.

"Elliot…" she said to the ghost in the hall.

"What are you doing here?"

Elliot bit his bottom lip. "I looked you up, I hope that's okay."

The shock never wore off Benson's face. Part of her waited to wake up, but this seemed pretty damn real.

"Yeah…" she stammered.

"Can I come in?"

"Yeah."

He walked past her, into the new apartment. He wore a bright blue shirt and a black jacket. She never realized how much she missed his voice, his eyes, his scent, until he strode past her.

Still in disbelief she closed the door and locked it, turning around to face Elliot.

His complexion was white - drained of color, and there were heavy bags nestled beneath his usually bright blue eyes. His lips parted as if to speak…

"Liv…" his voice cracked. There was no spit in his throat, no air in his lungs, and his hands were wrenched tightly in his pockets.

"I'm sorry."

Olivia's gaze wandered to the ground, head dropping. "It's okay," she said meekly.

He walked towards her, but she backed up. "It's not okay…." Stabler said, on the verge of tears.

"I should have been there…I should have been there the first time…I should have been there the second…there shouldn't even have been a second time," anger seeped through his voice.

Liv shook her head slowly. "None of this is your fault. There's nothing you could've done to prevent it."

"Bullshit!" his hands were on his waist, he turned and paced in a short line.

"I never would have let you out of my goddamn sight. I would've…"

"Don't Elliot." "Don't what?"

"Don't get lost in 'what if's,' it's a dangerous road to go down, believe me."

He stopped the short pace and started to move towards her, but stopped.

His heavy head fell forward- chin touching his chest. He didn't know if he was saying this for him or for his partner.

"I wanted to be there the first time," he mumbled. "Cragen…wouldn't let me," he dug his fingers into the fabric of his jacket. "I came anyway, but…they wouldn't let me…do anything."

He wasn't looking at Olivia's face, but stared instead at a fixed point somewhere near the shin area of her sweatpants.

"It's okay…"

"No, it's not."

His voice struggled beneath the weight of things he couldn't find the words to say. He looked so different…so lost.

"When they found you," he continued, rubbing his hand on his forehead, "I thought it was over. I wanted to be there for you, but I didn't know how. I was so angry. I was just so fucking angry that I didn't even want you to see me."

Olivia walked towards him, shaking her head as if to say 'let it go,' which was ridiculous because she sure as hell couldn't let it go.

"If I would have been at his trial," Stabler growled, "I would have fucking killed him." Suddenly his face filled with color and a rosy hue flooded his neck, cheeks and ears.

"If I would have found him the first time … I would have FUCKING KILLED HIM!"

"Well…he's dead now," she tried to placate her old partner.

"It's not enough," he said so quietly that she could barely hear. "I would have made him suffer," he bit his lip so sharply that it nearly drew blood. "Suffer until he begged for death."

Tentatively, she reached a hand out and placed it on his chest, in part to calm him down as well as to make sure that this was real.

He looked up at her with sudden realization in his eyes. "I'm such an idiot," he scolded himself.

"Why?"

"Because I should be…" he struggled. "I should be the one to… You should be leaning on me, not the other way around."

"Elliot…it's okay. It's nice to not be stuck in my own head for once."

There was pain in his eyes as they searched hers.

"There's so much…" his voice twisted.

Two tears slipped out of their stronghold and darted down his cheeks. He kept gulping, his adams apple bobbing up and down - and taking in measured breaths.

"Did he…?" his body trembled, there was no chance of finishing that sentence.

He chastised himself for even daring to ask such a question that he had no right to know, but he needed to know. It wasn't his place to know…but he had to know.

"No," Olivia said, a pained smile on her face, her eyes watering.

A heavy sigh of relief slipped past his lips as more tears fell from his eyes. He felt like collapsing on the ground, but worried that if he did, he'd shatter to a thousand pieces.

They stood so close together that he could smell the wine on her breath, feel the heat emanating from her body.

"I never should have left," his voice shook.

"Elliot…it's not your job to babysit me, even if you were my partner, I wouldn't let you." "If I were your partner, he never would have gotten near you, and I would have murdered him if he did."

"Then it's a good thing you weren't my partner El, because orange is not your color."

He huffed.

For the first time in years, she saw him smile, It was a small smile, but it was brighter than anything she'd seen in a long time.

But it dissipated quickly. Tension hung in the air between them once more.

"I didn't know if it'd be a good idea for me to come," he admitted.

"Well you've done a pretty good job avoiding visiting," she said, realizing the words were too sharp only after they left her mouth.

"I'm sorry," she put her hand on her forehead.

"No, I deserve it," he conceded. "I have been avoiding visiting…"

"Why?" the word slipped off her tongue like a plea, filled with hurt and curiosity.

"Because," he breathed, pausing for a solid minute…

"Because it scared me how much I thought about you as it was…and I knew that if I saw you again…I wouldn't be able to…leave you."

The words rushed over her brain, drowning her logic. She blinked, holding her eyes closed for a beat longer than necessary.

Was it the wine? Was she just hearing what she wanted to hear? Was this just another chapter of another daydream from the book "Elliot to the Rescue?"

Her strength was crumbling quickly. Tears began to trail down her face.

"I can't believe you're here," she said, relief consuming her entirely.

"It's real Liv. I'm here," he said, bringing a hand to cup her face and swiping a tear away with his thumb.

Their foreheads rested against one another and they shared the same air.

In all the years spent with each other, they'd never been so physically close. There was always a line. Always a wall. Always a boundary. But not here, not now, not during times like these.

"You make me feel safe," she whispered onto his lips, bringing a hand up to hold the arms that held her face.

It was inevitable - unstoppable.

She closed the gap and let her lips glide over his.


End file.
